


A Little Bungalow, Somewhere Outside London

by bethagain



Series: December Stories [7]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables, F/M, Gen, advent fic challenge
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 05:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 557
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21708100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bethagain/pseuds/bethagain
Summary: Shadwell's not much for conversation. Tracy finds that she's just fine with that.
Relationships: Sergeant Shadwell/Madame Tracy (Good Omens)
Series: December Stories [7]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1561195
Comments: 9
Kudos: 31





	A Little Bungalow, Somewhere Outside London

**Author's Note:**

> Day _seven_ of the 31 Days of Ineffables advent fic challenge, started by [drawlight](https://www.tumblr.com/search/drawlight). Today's prompt was _silent night._
> 
> Today we're visiting Tracy and Shadwell, who did indeed move together to a little bungalow in the country somewhere. Haven't you wondered what their life would be like? I know I have.

She knows the neighbors wonder what she sees in him. An odd old man who puts too much sugar in his tea, emptying packet after packet at their table at the local cafe. He stares squint-eyed at the other customers. His gaze is too intense for politeness. 

Tracy and Shadwell share a slice of cake and finish their tea in silence. She pays the bill. He holds the door for her. 

Their little cottage is a short stroll away, in the middle of a garden just at the edge of town. He unlocks the door, helps her out of her coat, and hangs it neatly on the coat rack in the hallway.

There’s an old movie on the telly and they sit together on the sofa, sharing a blanket, until she notices his head is nodding and she sends him off to bed. 

Tracy switches off the television and makes her way to the kitchen, where she plugs in the kettle and sits quietly listening to the water start to boil. She measures out the tea leaves, tips them into the pot, and pours the water in. 

Tea made, she sets her cup in a saucer and sits back at the small kitchen table. The refrigerator hums softly. Above her head, the floor creaks a bit and she can hear water in the pipes, then silence again. 

She sips her tea. It’s crazy what you can get used to, without even realizing. All those men who used to come to her door, wanting entertainment or sex or solace. All those lost souls looking for spiritual connection at Madame Tracy’s seances. They rattled on and on about their own problems. They took her empathy and carried it off with them, to shore up their own selves until their next visit, when they’d come back again looking for more. The money was fine and she’d never thought the work was that hard. But truth is, she hadn’t realized how tired it made her. 

When Shadwell makes tea, he brings a cup for her, too. He holds their umbrella when it rains. He helped her plant the garden, the riot of different colored flowers, and he goes out every morning now to keep the weeds at bay. 

The teacup rattles softly against the saucer as she sets it down. 

Shadwell’s not much for conversation. They’ve shared this cottage for a year now, gotten comfortable in this space together, formed habits and even have a shared joke or two. But their language is one of actions, of small kindnesses, not of words. 

It’s not like Tracy never talks to anyone. She’s made friends with the owner of the knitting shop in town. The cafe is a neighborhood hangout on Sunday mornings, and everyone has welcomed her in. 

Tracy slides her chair back from the table, the legs scraping quietly against the floor. She sets the cup and saucer in the sink to be washed in the morning. She can hear each of her own steps on the stairs in the silence.

In the morning, she’ll go downstairs to find Shadwell already in the kitchen, sipping on his too-sweet tea. He’ll stand up to get a cup for her, and she’ll say “thank you” as she takes it. They’ll share breakfast in companionable silence, and that will be just fine with her.


End file.
